And I Meant It
by Nanaki BH
Summary: Marco finally comes out to his parents, but their reaction isn't the best. Ashamed and suffering from massive grief, he turns to Dylan for help. (DylanxMarco, of course!)
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Degrassi and all associated material and characters is property of their respective owners.  
  
Note: This is my first Degrassi fanfic. Stick around for the read. Trust me. It's going to be good. With word like that from ze Great Nanaki BH, you know it's true.  
  
And I Meant It  
  
By: Nanaki BH  
  
"Papa, I'm gay!"  
  
It was one of those typical Italian fights over women, politics or racial profiling. This one was about women. My father was your traditional Italian guy. He thought the only good people were Italian, he thought women were only good for romance novels and cooking, he insisted that he paid for dinner even when someone else took us out, and of course, he thought gay guys were total fairies that should drop off the face of the earth. I always wanted to crawl under a rock whenever he started a conversation with me that started like "why don't you get a girl friend". Generally, when someone comes out they either get a good reaction, a bad reaction, or no reaction at all. In an Italian family it is almost guaranteed a one hundred percent chance of a bad reaction. It's not just a reaction from your own parents and siblings. Oh no. It's much more than just that. Once your immediate family knows, then your aunts and uncles know and then your grandparents, and then they tell the cousins and then the cousins tell your distant family members back in Italy. It's like some cruel circle. Once the last of your family knows, they'll send an infuriated letter back home. At least that's how it seems to go.  
  
My father kept nagging to me this Saturday afternoon how I should get a girl friend. He had his heart set on me being King of Degrassi. It was either me or another Italian kid in his mind. He went through a list of almost all the girls I knew in the process.  
  
"Ashley? She doesn't seem too bad. You must like her!"  
  
"No, papa. Ashley's not my type."  
  
"Well, how about Paige? You're good friends with her brother, right?"  
  
I blushed, knowing I was much more than just a good friend with Dylan. "She's not much like her brother."  
  
"So you don't like her?"  
  
"No." I was frustrated by now. Just keep cool... One word answers always work well.  
  
"There's that Ellie girl. You were dating her once, no?" From standing in the kitchen doorway he came to sit down in the chair across from me. "What happened with her?"  
  
Oh crap! Quick excuse! "Uh... She didn't think it would work out." Smooth catch, Marco-boy.  
  
"Well why did she think that? You're such a nice boy, how could it not 'work out'?" he leaned a little forward in his chair, apparently expecting a good answer.  
  
I gave him one. "It's a girl thing."  
  
"Ah." Hey, he took it. "So how's that Liberty, she..." I had to cut him off before he could continue. There was no chance that I liked Liberty anyway.  
  
"She's strange, papa. Besides, she likes someone." Or so I think. I'm too worried about my own relationship with Dylan to think about anyone else.  
  
"Spinner?" he asked.  
  
"Don't like his hair. Looks too much like Dylan's."  
  
...Aw crap. I didn't have time to think! Redo! Redo!  
  
He raised an eyebrow at me. So he pressed, "Eh... Marco, what do you like about that Dylan?" He was almost right up in my face he was so close. He should be able to tell I was blushing. How could I answer that without sounding completely gay? What did I like about Dylan... he was funny, sweet, gentle, he took things slow with me, he understood my feelings, and best of all, he was practically the hottest guy at Degrassi.  
  
He narrowed his eyes. It was now or never.  
  
I could feel myself on the verge of tears as I said it. "Papa, I'm gay!" And that's how it worked out. Just after I had it said, I saw my mother in the kitchen doorway looking devastated. This was such a bad idea. It was like I had just jumped in a tank of man-eating sharks and I was staring into the eyes of the biggest one. I barely registered it when I felt a hard slap to the face.  
  
"Marco!" It was my mother's voice but it felt so far away. I think I heard my father screaming something, but I couldn't tell what he was saying. All I felt was grief, a sort of pain that grabbed at my stomach and made tears come to my eyes. I looked back up and my father was gone. My mom was dragging him by his elbow into the kitchen and he was still screaming his head off at me. "Be quiet! Stay in here and don't do anything!" He still kept yelling but he listened and stayed in the kitchen.  
  
She stumbled over to me. "Marco... my Marco." I was sobbing by now, unable to control myself. She stroked my cheeks. "Listen, I... don't know what to say or how to feel about this just yet, but it would be a good idea if you left for a little while. Go to your friend Dylan. He has a nice family. I'm sure they wouldn't mind having you. Just tell them I'll pay them back for it, okay? Go upstairs and get a backpack with some things." She glanced over at the shut kitchen door, "I don't know how long he will be like this." She patted my cheek. "Get going!"  
  
I nodded numbly. "I... I'm sorry, mamma. I love you." I ran upstairs, gathered together some clothes and I was out the door without a second thought.  
  
I had to get to Dylan.  
  
Author's notes: Aw... Poor, poor Marco! I know how you feel buddy! Marco's parents remind me of my grandparents who have passed away. I miss them bunches, but I know my grandfather might have had a similar reaction to Marco's father. I've recently become a fan of Degrassi because I'm in almost the exact same situation as Marco... except I'm a girl. Anyway, I hope you are enjoying this so far. I know I'm going to have a lot of fun writing this story. If you're interested in this story, feel free to check out my extensive collection of fics. Reviewers are loved! 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimers: Degrassi, its characters, and all associated material belong to their respective owners.  
  
And I Meant It  
  
By: Nanaki BH  
  
The walk to the Michalchuk's was excruciating. My eyes were blinded by tears. I closed them and kept walking when I saw something that made even more tears rise; a lovely, young, perfectly straight couple making out in broad daylight. I wanted to scream at them. I knew it wasn't their fault though. It was just as much their fault that they were straight as it was my fault for being gay. Fault there: zero. I opened my eyes when I felt a cool breeze blow. It was the first thing that day that helped me relax. I let out a sigh, trying not to think of what happened at my house. Before I knew it, I was standing on the front doorstep of the Michalchuk's residence.  
  
I felt that pain once again gnaw at my stomach when I remembered why I was there. I gave a couple pitiful knocks on the door and was greeted by Paige. I opened my mouth but nothing came out.  
  
"Marco," Paige whispered, "honey, you're crying!" She turned around to yell into the house. "Dylan, come over here! Get your ass in gear! Move it, you lazy sloth!" Within a few moments she moved aside and let Dylan step over. He gave me a good once over and then pulled me into his arms. I couldn't help it; I completely unwound in front of him, sobbing openly into his shirt.  
  
"It's not my fault," I whispered. He rubbed soothing circles around my back, trying to calm me.  
  
"Come on, Marco," he said. "Let's go to my room."  
  
As he ushered me inside his mother took notice. "Oh, Dylan, did you invite your friend over?" Paige tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear. "Oh... honey, I'll get you some water, take him up to your room." He nodded silently and guided me up the stairs and to the bedroom with hockey posters plastered all over the door.  
  
Once we were safely inside he shut the door. I took off my backpack and sat it beside his bed. He sat down next to me and put a comforting hand on my leg. He took a deep breath before starting. "So you told them, huh?"  
  
I whimpered. "It was more of an accident. My dad was asking me a whole bunch of questions like he usually does and I thought it was now or never. It would have happened anyway." I buried my face in my palms. "But what am I going to do now? My father hates more for it! You know how Italians get right?" He stayed quiet, so I guessed he didn't. "Well, you heard the way he was criticizing that waiter on our first date. Italians are sticklers for family. If it's not 'good' for the family, then they don't like it. Being gay isn't on their list of good things. I... I just wish I weren't like this sometimes." I looked up from my hands and saw such concern etched into his features. "But in a way I'm glad... because if I weren't I wouldn't I know you." I offered him a small smile which he gladly took.  
  
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "If you want to stay here for a while, that's fine. I'm sure my parents won't mind. They know what it's like." He tilted my chin up and gave me a soft peck on the lips.  
  
There was a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" it was his mother's voice. She had a similar voice to Paige's, but with an older, more knowledgeable flare.  
  
"You can come in," Dylan said. It was nice how we could be in each other's arms like this and not have to worry about his mother's disapproval.  
  
She put a glass of ice water on his nightstand and asked, "How are you feeling, Marco?"  
  
I sighed and leaned back into Dylan's embrace. I thought over my words carefully. I certainly wasn't happy. Well, I was in a way. I finally told them. Like I had said, it would happen one way or another. And... I'm here with Dylan so that's always good. But to be honest, "I feel like crap," which is true. My back hurts and I didn't even do anything to that. My head hurts and I'm a little tired and hungry, but that's from crying.  
  
"Well," she said, "drink some water. When you're feeling a bit better maybe you and Dylan can go out and get something for dinner." I blushed. I felt so comfortable here. I knew my father wouldn't dare intrude on this. If anything, he's glad I'm away from the house. I hope my mother can talk some sense into him. She's usually very good at it.  
  
"Sounds good, mom," Dylan said from behind me. I could feel his chest rumble as he spoke. He has such a beautiful deep voice. The simple thought of it made me smile.  
  
"You know when we have dinner, Dylan. You better get going before four o'clock, okay? How about turkey sandwiches and barley soup? You know where the nearest..."  
  
"Yes, mom. I'll get it. You don't have to worry 'bout it." She gave a small 'hmph' and looked at us with half lidded eyes. She smiled knowingly and left his room, closing the door behind her.  
  
I grinned. "You amaze me, you know that? It's like you know how to take care of everything." I turned around in his hold so I could give him a kiss. But after kissing for a few moments it turned into something completely different. I'd never... made out with anyone before, but it was like I knew exactly what to do. I felt him gently slip his hands up my shirt to stroke my sides. I moaned and moved closer so I could sit on his lap. We broke apart shortly after we realized we couldn't breathe. I ran my tongue over my braces, amazed at the tingling sensation he left behind.  
  
"So you'll definitely stay for dinner right?" he asked, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.  
  
I shrugged. "Who knows, I may even spend the night. My mom told me I should bring a back pack." I gestured to my bag sitting next to the bed. "Even if they call, I think I'll tell them I'm staying. I mean, how could I spend tonight in that house with my father? He'd be glaring at me all night and then in the morning he'll make gay jokes and... He won't want me to see you." I looked at my lap, trying to avoid his eyes.  
  
"I'm sure something will work out. There's nothing that can keep me away from you. Even if he does try to take you away from me, we still go to the same school. Even after I graduate, I'll still come to visit you and you can come over when ever you like. So listen, don't worry about it. I've got it all covered." He patted my shoulders and I looked back up into those sincere grey eyes.  
  
I blushed. "See, that's what I was trying to tell you! You know exactly what to do for every situation." I grinned. "And that's good because I never know what to do."  
  
"You came here. That was a good decision."  
  
"My mom told me, remember?"  
  
"But you listened." He stood up, but kept me in his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep myself up. "So would you like to go get food for dinner with me?"  
  
I must have been blushing like crazy. I'd never got this far with him before. Sitting on his bed, holding hands, hugging, making out with him... This was like the best day of my life. Okay, except the raging father bit. If that hadn't happened, then it would... no, forget that. It's still the best day of my life. At least it is so far. I'm hoping things only get better from here.  
  
"Sure. Sounds good."  
  
Author's Notes: This got quite a good welcome from all you readers out there. When I can tell people are enjoying the story, I generally want to write more. So thank you for all the lovely reviews! Keep reading and I'll keep writing! As far as the actual story is involved, I've already got some things planned for it. I spent a day on a college tour for my brother (I'm only a freshman but he's a senior) and was bored out of my mind. I came up with most of this fic then and I got a good idea last night for the next chapter or two. So, who wants me to write a sex scene? Say yay or nay. I've approached a few people online about it and they seem to think it's a good idea. I won't write anything too graphic, nothing above R, really. I may change the rating later. shrug It all depends. Please review and give me your opinion. 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Degrassi and all associated materials belong to their respective owners.  
  
And I Meant It  
  
By: Nanaki BH  
  
"Remember, Dylan, before four o'clock!" Dylan's mom called from the door as we got into his convertible. He waved her off and started the car. The drive to the store was relatively boring, save for every time his hand would brush against mine. It sent small electric shocks up my spine. It never ceases to amaze me. I'm just so... attracted to him. The sparks must be from some sort of magnetic friction then, right? Or not, because I have no clue when it comes to science. Apparently chemistry isn't just something you learn in a classroom. Or is magnetic stuff something completely different? Well, whatever.  
  
I was broken from my reverie when he stopped the car out side of a small beverage store. These places were all over, but this one certainly wasn't the usual Convenient. It didn't really have a name. The sign about the door just said "Farmers' Market" then underneath that in small print "Beverage Store". It was really pitiful from the out side. It was a small square building. Rusted bike racks were set up near the entrance. One lonely little bike was placed precariously in one of its spots. Dylan practically made a full fire drill as he ran around the back of the car to open my door. "Thanks," I said weakly. I was still pretty tired from the exhaustion.  
  
When I stood I noticed a very familiar scent from inside. It wasn't any particular smell. It was... just very... Italian. "This place is an Italian business, isn't it?" I asked Dylan.  
  
He scratched the back of his neck. "I think so. It's Italian and Slovenian or something. Why do you ask?"  
  
I shook my head. "It just smells like it." I laughed. "I know that sounds ridiculous, but I've been going to places like these forever. They all have that same smell. It must be a combination of the food, the wine, the people, and more wine and food." He laughed. Yay! Bonus points to Marco for making cute guy laugh!  
  
He took my hand. "What were we getting?"  
  
Easy answer, "turkey." He must have been distracted before by my abundant beauty.  
  
He nodded. "Dunno how I forgot that. I love this place's turkey. They're the best." He smiled; something that always made my head light and my heart flutter. And for God's sake, all he was talking about was turkey! He's good. He can make turkey seem really interesting.  
  
He gave my hand a light tug and I forgot all about the turkey. All I was focusing on for the few moments before we stepped into the shop was his warm, soft hand holding mine. When we finally got inside the scent became much more intense and hit me like a semi. It used to be a comforting aroma, but as of late, it's become something I fear. It brought back the memory of what happened earlier this afternoon. I squeezed his hand a bit tighter and shut my eyes for a moment, trying to push the thought away. When I opened them, we were standing in the doorway. He was looking at me with that concerned expression again. It made me feel a bit guilty, but he squeezed my hand in return as if to say "I understand".  
  
"What, are you just going to stand there?" I blushed, taking noticed of the annoyed expression on the cashier's face. "You're going to buy something, right?"  
  
Dylan gave him a flippant wave and guided me over to the small meat counter. Now that I'm inside, everything seems much smaller, even though the out side was small to begin with. After exchanging a couple words with the guy behind the counter, he received a parcel of turkey. He nodded and started to the register. The cashier looked to be in his late fifties. He wasn't fat, but wasn't exactly what you would call thin. Thin was Dylan. He had this sort of mobster look going for him. He was very tall, with this edgy tough look to him. The whole time I could feel his eyes on my back. It was just confirmed when I looked directly at him with him staring back into my eyes. He was indeed very intimidating. I could tell from the moment we walked in that he was a homophobe. That other guy was real nice. Considering that Dylan came here a lot, at least from what he said, don't you think this guy should be happy to see us?  
  
The man only took a glance at the package to find its price. What bothered me then was that he kept his eyes on me even as he rang the cash register. What is his problem? I'm not his kid! Then again, he could be like my dad's cousin's great uncle twice removed and I wouldn't know it. He probably got the letter about the 'situation' by now.  
  
Dylan took my hand back after we paid and dragged me away from that man's gaze. I knew my ears would be ringing later.  
  
"What a schuschtumad," I groaned.  
  
He stopped mid-step and raised an eyebrow at me. "A what?"  
  
I laughed. I didn't even think about it when I said that. "It's Italian. It's a name for someone really rude and uncouth."  
  
He nodded. "You mean the cashier? That's Mike. He's nice to me usually. He knows I'm gay and he's sort of twitchy around me sometimes. I guess he thought with us together like that it was a bit over the top. I don't know about him, but I think we look great together." My cheeks hurt and I wondered silently if I was blushing. He hugged me around the shoulders with one arm, sort of like one of those hugs straight guys give each other. Somehow, getting one from a gay dude felt a lot more endearing.  
  
He looked out to his car and grimaced. "That's the only bad thing about a convertible." He gave a sad laugh. "Things could be worse."  
  
When did it start raining? Oh crap, that's what he means. Without a top, his car was soaked.  
  
He patted me gently on the back. "I hope you don't mind getting a tad bit wet."  
  
I laughed outright. "Like I care!" I grabbed him and ran to the car. Even if we got pneumonia, this could be some great fun!  
  
"Whatever you want, babe," he laughed, turning on the engine.  
  
Author's Note: It took me forever to write that... I was so determined to make getting turkey interesting. Haha. I dig myself into positions like that without even thinking about it. I had to use the word schuschtumad because my aunt uses it all the time. I don't know if I spelled it right, but I'm guessing I did. My mom thought it was spelled that way and she's Italian too, so we can only hope. My aunt always refers to my cousin's boyfriend like that. Hehe. SO! I may write the lemon, but it's subject to change. I'm not sure how far I can take their relationship in one small fanfic. I might be able to do a one-shot with it and pull it off. Well, I hope to hear from you all! Thank you for all the lovely reviews! 


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